


Castle

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Series: Coming Down [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: (sort of), Aftercare, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Cuddling & Snuggling, D/s AU, Dom/sub, Dry Humping, F/M, M/M, Multi, No Negotiations, Orgasm Control, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Spanking, Subspace, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, sub!Aaron Ekblad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:22:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5448107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jags gets it – Aaron bets he’s seen a fair number of subs slip under after a good game, with how long he’s been in the league.  There are a couple murmurs in the room, everyone trying to figure out what’s going on with Aaron this time.  It’s a group of Doms and only a couple switches, no other subs, and Aaron knows that Dom headspace looks a lot different than subspace does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DefaltManifesto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/gifts).



> SOMEONE STOP ME
> 
> No Negotiations tag - Willie, Aaron, and Meg engage in consensual sex with a power imbalance. They do not negotiate the terms of the power exchange, their limits, etc. beforehand, but everyone enjoys it and nobody is taken advantage of
> 
> I do not represent these real people presented as characters, nor do I make any claims about what they do or do not do in their private lives.

Aaron doesn’t usually go into subspace after a game.  It’s happened before, and he knew it was bound to happen again, but he never really expects it.  It’s more common for a game to make him drop.  But he scored the tying goal on the power play and he has a three game point-streak and he can’t help but nuzzle into the hand Lu’s ruffling his hair with.  The guys are coming up and patting his back, messing up his hair, and it’s too easy to fall, really.

Willie’s the one who notices, probably because he’s seen Aaron like this before, listing into every touch, eyes half-closed, cheeks flushed under his beard.

“You all right?” Willie asks, frowning a little.  It sends a pang through Aaron – is he not doing the right thing?  Why is his captain frowning?  Can Aaron fix it?

“Great,” Aaron responds, grinning at him.  Willie seems to relax a little; Aaron preens at his success.

Then Jags comes up behind him and smacks him on the ass, hard, shouting “Good going Eks!”

Aaron moans, eyes falling shut as he basically collapses into Willie.  Everything goes quiet around him, but Aaron’s focused more on the heat still racing through him and Willie, strong and solid, holding him up.

“Is it drop again?” Jags asks urgently, putting his hand high on Aaron’s back and moving to stand beside him, peering at Aaron’s face.

“No,” Willie replies grudgingly, tightening his hold on Aaron minutely.  Aaron arches into it.

Jags gets it – Aaron bets he’s seen a fair number of subs slip under after a good game, with how long he’s been in the league.  There are a couple murmurs in the room, everyone trying to figure out what’s going on with Aaron _this_ time.  It’s a group of Doms and only a couple switches, no other subs, and Aaron knows that Dom headspace looks a lot different than subspace does.

“This is what you’re going to do, Aaron,” Willie says.  Aaron perks up, waiting for an order.  “You’re going to get out of the rest of your gear, you’re going to shower, well, and then you’re going to get dressed in your suit.  Okay?”

“Yes, Sir,” Aaron says brightly.

Willie nods, a tinge of that frown back, before he lets go of Aaron and turns back to his own stall.

Aaron’s pretty sure he strips down faster than he ever has before, not even bothering to wrap a towel around his waist and he hurries into the showers.  Going through a room, somebody pinches his hip.  He doesn’t know who it is – but he stops and shudders, sucking in a breath through his teeth.  Then he remembers what Willie told him to do, and he heads into the showers.

He’s supposed to shower _well_ , not fast, so Aaron takes his time under the hot spray.  He shampoos his hair, tugging as much as he dares, and spends extra time rinsing it out to make sure there’s no suds left.  He even uses conditioner, though working that into his hair threatens to make him hard, and if he does he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from touching, and Willie hadn’t said he could.

He squeezes body wash into the palm of his hand and starts washing, whining deep in his throat as his hands slick over his skin.  _Well_ , Willie had said, so he fists his cock with a hand full of suds, and spreads his legs to wash the crack of his ass and behind his balls.  Washing his legs and his toes does nothing to calm him down.  Rinsing off under the spray doesn’t, either, not when the water pounding on his back feels like the warm-up to some time with a flogger.

“Looking good,” someone calls as they walk past him.  Aaron grins in what he thinks is their direction, but can’t open his eyes while the water’s pouring over him.

Finally he admits he can’t get any cleaner than he’s gotten and turns off the spray, drying off thoroughly.  That might be considered part of showering, and he doesn’t want Willie to think he wasn’t listening and half-assed part of his orders.

Everyone must’ve been filled in while Aaron was in the shower, because he’s greeted back in the room with more shouts of how well he did in the game, how happy he looks, and more ass taps and hands lingering over his bare shoulders.  Aaron beams at them all, his head held high as he works his way back to his stall.  He has to get dressed.

Jags is already dressed, sitting in his stall next to Aaron’s and looking down at his phone.  Aaron drops his towel and slips on his briefs, and really, he should have been expecting it when Jags reaches over and slaps him on the ass again.

It’s harder than what his teammates were giving him throughout the room.  A groan bursts from his lips; he reaches out to brace himself against his stall as Jags holds on and squeezes.

“You’re doing well,” Jags tells him quietly, before letting go and going back to his phone.  Aaron goes back to getting dressed, a little slower and more distracted.  He’s still dressed before Willie is, a glance across the room tells him, so he settles in his stall to wait.

As soon as he’s sitting, Jags has an arm around him, pulling Aaron tight against his side.  Aaron melts, ducking down to rest his head on Jags’s shoulder, closing his eyes once he’s comfortable.  He can’t curl up as much as he wants to, a small thread of shame still winding through him at the thought of shifting over on Jags’s lap and curling up into a ball.

Jags is rubbing his hand up and down Aaron’s side, under his suit jacket but over his shirt.  Aaron shivers and tucks his head more against Jags’s neck.

“Don’t you look comfortable,” Willie says, laying a hand on Aaron’s head.  Aaron looks up at him, without lifting his head, and smiles.

“Yes, Sir.”

“And you did everything I asked.  Good work, Eks.”

Aaron glows.  “Thank you, Sir.”

He feels Jags shift under him; he huddles closer.

“Didn’t know you were—” Jags starts.

“We’re not,” Willie interrupts.  “Well…”

Jags hums in understanding, his chest vibrating under Aaron.

“Time to get on the bus, kid,” Willie says, combing Aaron’s still wet hair back off his face.

Aaron nods and peels himself off of Jags, as much as his body is screaming at him to stay pressed against someone so warm and steady.  But Willie puts an arm around Aaron’s shoulders and holds both of their bags in one hand as they walk through halls out to where the bus is idling, and a little piece of Aaron is thrilled.

Willie gets them seats together and takes the window, lets Aaron curl up half-on top of him.  They’re near the front of the bus, and most of the guys rub Aaron’s shoulder or pet his hair as they pass by to take their seats.  Aaron sighs and slumps against Willie, smiling to himself.

The bus jolts under them when they start moving, but Aaron doesn’t even mind it.  Having Willie and Jags and the rest of the team is better than anything else he’s ever experienced.  Okay – he amends – not as good as when they’d won at Worlds and he had gotten a spank for each goal Team Canada had scored during the tournament.  He’s not sure anything will be able to top the taste of victory in his mouth and his teammates’ hands taking turns on his ass.  But this is a close second.

Lu’s in the seat behind him.  He only knows because he keeps reaching over the top of the seat and around the side to run a hand over Aaron’s shoulder, down his arm, through his hair.  It’s almost as good as the hand Willie has on the leg sprawled across his lap.

Willie nudges him when they stop at the airport, but holds him close and carries their bags again as they leave the bus for the plane.  Instead of their usual seats, Willie leads Aaron to the couch-like rows at the back of the plane.  It’s an L of seating, with seatbelts for safety precautions but without individual seats.

Aaron drops right into the corner, where the cushioning’s thickest.  Willie sits on one side of him, Lu on the other.  There’s still more space, and some of the other guys disregard their usual seats to sit near them.  Hubs buckles in on the other side of Willie; Soupy takes the end seat next to Jags; Jokinen squeezes in on the other end.

Willie buckles Aaron’s seatbelt for him.  “After we’re allowed to take our seatbelts off you can sit however you like, but for now, you need to sit just like this, okay?”

‘Just like this’ is with both feet on the ground, turned just enough towards Lu to rest his head on his shoulder, but not curled into him like he wants to be.

“Yes Sir,” Aaron replies dutifully.  Willie’s hand lands on Aaron’s thigh again; Aaron tucks a smile into the collar of Lu’s shirt.

“So it’s like that, is it?” Lu asks, amusement tinging his voice.

“Shut up,” Willie grumbles, thumb stroking the inside of Aaron’s thigh.  Aaron relaxes and rests his hands in his lap.

Really, by the time they’re up in the air and the fasten seatbelt light goes off, Aaron’s half asleep.  Lu had grabbed one of his hands when the plane was hurtling down the runway, and Willie never took his hand off Aaron’s thigh.  Aaron’s surrounded by Doms, a protective circle that means so much more because they’re his team, too, and it’s easy to just float.

“You can move if you want to,” Willie says quietly, unbuckling Aaron’s seatbelt for him with his left hand.  He crawls into Lu’s lap right away, curling against his chest.  Lu’s arms come up around him; Aaron makes a noise, and they tighten around him.  He can feel Willie shift into the seat he’d left, his hand landing on Aaron’s hip.  Jags moves closer, on the other side, and puts a hand on Aaron’s knee, the other taking Aaron’s hand and squeezing.

It’s nice, having them all wrapped around him, and better than the last time it’d happened, when he had dropped too much to really appreciate it.

“How do you feel?” Lu asks him.

Aaron nuzzles against his neck; his beard must tickle, because Lu laughs softly.  “Good,” he murmurs, sinking further against Lu.  “R’ly good.”

“Glad to hear it,” Willie says, patting his hip gently.  It seems almost like a promise of something more.

He sits like that until the seatbelt light comes back on, and Willie orders him back into his own seat.

 

 

.oOo.

 

 

Aaron wakes up the next morning completely mortified.  He’s in Willie and Meg’s bed again, and he definitely remembers whining and begging the entire way home from the airport to be allowed to sleep there.  _God_ , he thought he couldn’t be more embarrassed than the last time he’d wound up here, but he is.

He tries to squirm out from between them, but Meg’s holding on surprisingly tightly for a woman so much smaller.  She has her arms around his waist, her face pressed to his – oh God – bare chest, her legs tangled with his.  Willie’s just as bad – he’s draped over Aaron’s back, and the arm he has over Aaron’s hips might as well as be rope, for how little Aaron can move.

Aaron shifts again, but Willie just pushes closer and, wow, his morning wood nudges against Aaron’s ass.

He freezes.  It’s one thing to wake up with your captain and his wife, another for your captain to be _hard_ , and yet another for Aaron to feel his own dick chubbing up.

He needs to get out.  He isn’t – Aaron remembers how insistently Willie had told the team they _weren’t like that_ the night before, and he can’t take advantage of Willie and Meg.  But they still won’t let go.

Aaron trembles, tensing up more and more between them as time passes.  They have skate, don’t they?  They need to get up and get to the rink, and Aaron’s going to have to face the whole rest of the team when he was acting like a complete slut of a sub, oh _God_.

Willie’s hand lands with a muffled crack on Aaron’s thigh.  It brings Aaron back to himself, back from the edge of the panic, because Aaron _loves_ that, and he hates that he loves it.

“Calm down, Aaron,” Willie tells him, rubbing gently over the spot he’s smacked.  “Meg and I were happy to have you sleep here last night.  The guys on the team were happy about how happy you were.  You don’t need to be embarrassed.

“But—“ Aaron starts, and falters, because he doesn’t really know what to say.

“We still have an hour before we have to leave for skate,” Willie says, and pets his thigh.  “Are you feeling all right.”

Aaron swallows.  “Y-yeah, but—“ Willie rocks against Aaron’s ass, and he shudders.  “Si— _Willie_ you said we weren’t like that!”

“I didn’t want to presume,” Willie says against Aaron’s neck.  Aaron can’t help but tilt his head back, so Willie can press even closer.  “We hadn’t talked about it, but Meg and I want to, if you do.”

Aaron’s pretty sure his face is bright red, with how hot it feels.  But he feels hot all over, like if you poured water on him it would all turn to steam.  “Are you—“

“Yes, I’m serious, and yes, we’re sure.”

Aaron bites his lip and pushes back, grinding his ass against Willie’s cock.

“ _Shit_ ,” Willie hisses, and thrusts up against him roughly.  It’s hard enough to send Aaron rocking forward, his cock dragging against Meg’s thigh.  Aaron moans, high-pitched, and presses back against Willie for more.

“Don’t move too much,” Willie whispers against his neck.  “Don’t want to wake up Meg, do you?  We got in so late, and she waited up for us.  She deserves to sleep in, right Aaron?”

“Yes, Sir,” Aaron gasps, stopping himself from thrusting against her thigh again.

“Don’t come, either.”

Aaron nods furiously, balling one of his hands into a fist, digging his nails into the palm to distract himself as Willie thrusts against his ass.  He can’t help imagining it without both their underwear, Willie pressing Aaron into the bed and rutting against him, his cock leaving sticky trails over Aaron’s cheeks, spreading him open so he can rub right against Aaron’s hole, and thrusting in once Aaron’s begged enough.

Aaron whines, eyes clenching shut, when Willie’s dick slots in his crack.  He’s getting loud, he knows, but he can’t stop it.  This is too much of what he’s dreamed of since the beginning of last season.

Meg shifts against his chest, her nose rubbing his skin.  The image in Aaron’s mind changes – it’s not just Willie behind him, but Meg under him, too, his face buried between her legs, her hands in his hair forcing his mouth exactly where she wants it, Willie giving him instructions on how much tongue to use, how fast to go.  He’s heard her, sometimes, when he’s passing by their room for a glass of water, and he wonders if he could get her to make those high, breathy sounds that Willie seems to draw out with such ease.

Willie’s hand cups over his mouth, muffling a loud moan that Aaron can’t stop.  “I know you can’t help being loud.”

Aaron whimpers and nods carefully, so Willie’s hand won’t be dislodged.

Willie’s bucking harder against him, grunting quietly in Aaron’s ear.  He must’ve soaked through his boxers; Aaron can feel his briefs getting damp at the swell of his ass.  He can’t help but rock back against Willie, and he knows he’s not supposed to move, but he just wants to make Willie feel good.

And Willie’s hand lands with a crack and a sting on his thigh; Aaron groans under Willie’s hand, his eyes rolling back.  Willie grabs hold of him, right there where he’d hit, and holds Aaron still to rut against him.  It’s fast after that that Willie comes, hips jerking against Aaron’s ass and his come soaking into his boxers and Aaron’s briefs.

Aaron whines, digging his nails in deeper.  He’s so hard he’s going to cry, shake off Willie’s hand and beg for a hand on him, something, anything—

A small, soft hand slips into his briefs and cups his cock, a thumb carefully swiping over the head.

“Come,” Willie orders him, softly in his ear, and Aaron does.  He cries out behind Willie’s hand and his entire body shakes, his cock jerking in Meg’s hand and spilling into his underwear.

Once he slumps into the bed, Willie eases his hand off of Aaron’s mouth.  “Good boy, Aaron.”

Aaron flutters his eyes open, smiling back at Willie and earning himself a small peck on the lips.

And then Willie’s attention refocuses on Meg, who’s slung her leg over Aaron’s hip and is trying to rub against his thigh.  Aaron goes to move his leg up, press it against Meg’s pussy and let her grind against it, but Willie’s hand on his thigh stills him.

“Watch her face,” Willie tells him, before letting go and rubbing Meg’s pussy through her panties.

She gasps, and Aaron tilts his head down so he can study the way her mouth drops open and her brows draw together.

Willie pulls her panties to the side and slips two fingers into her.  Aaron starts breathing heavier when he hears the squelch of his fingers curling in her, and stares with rapt fascination at how Meg’s eyelids flutter and her cheeks redden.

Aaron can feel when Willie repositions his hand, his thumb drawing circles on Meg’s clit with his fingers still inside her, and she jolts against Aaron.  Her back arches, hips twitching into Willie’s hand, those little breathy moans that Aaron covets slipping from her lips.

Another moment and she’s coming, breasts pushing against Aaron’s chest as her back arches sharply, head falling back as a long, drawn out moan spills from her lips.  Her eyes are wide open, eyebrows up, mouth open in an ‘O’ as Willie gentles her through it with soft strokes against her labia.

And then she slumps against Aaron, face tilted up to his.  Aaron wants to kiss her, can’t look away from her berry pink lips, but Willie hasn’t told him he’s allowed to.

“Kiss her,” Willie says, as if he can read Aaron’s mind.  Aaron does, pressing his lips softly to Meg’s, following her lead as she tilts her head.

Willie’s hand on Aaron’s cheek turns him away from her after a moment, his wet fingers trailing to Aaron’s open mouth and slipping in.  The sour taste explodes on his tongue, and Aaron groans around Willie’s fingers because these were the ones that were inside of Meg, they’re covered in her, and he doesn’t even bother to stop himself from lapping at Willie’s fingers until they taste like skin again.

“Such a good job,” Meg murmurs, cupping Aaron’s cheek.  “Did just what Willie asked of you.”

Aaron smiles around Willie’s fingers, feeling like he’s about to burst with happiness.

 

 

.oOo.

 

 

 

After that, it’s easier to face the team.  Willie still has to calm him down a couple times in the car, reassure him that the team doesn’t think less of him, really, they didn’t mind him snuggling them and sitting in their laps.  Aaron’s finally starting to believe it when they pull into the lot and park the car.

The room’s mostly full when they walk in.  When people realize it’s Willie and Aaron coming in, some of them cheer, and even more start clapping.  Aaron flushes, stuttering a step back; Willie’s hand lands low on his back to brace him and push him out of the doorway.

“There’s our sweet boy,” Jags says with a grin, when Aaron settles in his stall.  Aaron flushes and focuses on pulling his street clothes off.  “Next time you want to sit on someone’s lap, I offer mine.”

“Really?” Aaron asks quietly, darting a glance over at him.

“Of course,” Jags replies, grabbing hold of Aaron’s wrist.  “Anyone would be honored.”

Aaron flushes bright red.  “H-honored?” He squeaks.

Jags grins, and glances past him just as someone slips an arm around his waist and presses a kiss to his neck.

“Don’t let this old man lure you away,” Lu says, laughing.  “You’re welcome to sit on me again next flight.”

Aaron’s eyes go wide.  “You’re – you’re okay with it?”

“Like Jags said,” Lu says, and lets go.  “Who wouldn’t want a sweet, cuddly sub in their lap?”

“Well…” Aaron starts, thinking of every time he’s been tossed out without aftercare, because he’s big, tough-looking, and shouldn’t need it.

“No one here would say no,” Jags tells him seriously, squeezing his wrist.  “Not a single one.”

Aaron ducks his head and smiles to himself.

“Hey, let the kid get dressed!” Willie calls from across the room, already half-in his gear for practice.  “You can sing his praises after we’ve got some solid work in.”

Aaron grins, and Willie winks at him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on part 3 now someone needs to stop me
> 
> Thanks to Schizzar for being delightful and sharing my love of aftercare and bearded giant Aaron Ekblad cuddling with vets.
> 
> Title from the Halsey song


End file.
